Like Mother, Like Daughter
by hooperanddavidson
Summary: She looked like she was about sixteen with long, bushy blond hair and a sallow complexion marred by acne scars, but it was her eyes that got Buffy's attention. Big, brown and glaring at the camera with ferocity that she recognized all too well. Or, towards the end of season two Faith volunteers to investigate the supernatural happenings in Beacon Hills for entirely selfish reasons.
1. Prolog

**Title:** Like Mother, Like Daughter

**Summary:** She looked like she was about sixteen, with long, bushy blond hair and a sallow complexion marred by acne scars, but it was her eyes that got Buffy's attention. Big and brown and glaring at the camera with ferocity that Buffy recognized all too well. Or, towards the end of season two, Faith volunteers to investigate the supernatural happenings in Beacon Hills for entirely selfish reasons.

**Main Characters:** Faith Lehane, Erica Reyes, Dawn Summers, Connor, Teen Wolf-ensemble, possibly more to be added later.

**Pairings:** Berica (main), background Scallison, Jydia, Connor/Dawn, Sterek and possibly Chris Argent/Faith.

**Disclaimer:** Just a fangirl.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Prolog

"I heard we have a situation in Beacon Hills."

Faith entered Buffy's office with her usual aplomb, pushing open the door without knocking and throwing herself into a chair, propping her boots up on her desk. Wrinkling her nose, Buffy leaned forward to prod at one with the eraser of her pencil. "Off," she ordered, "and how do you know that?" When Faith didn't answer right away she glanced up and immediately sat up as well, brow furrowing. "And what's wrong?" she demanded flatly.

It took her another couple of seconds, but Faith eventually dropped her feet to the floor and leaned forward on her elbows. "I just got off of the phone with Alan," she said, and then went quiet again. Buffy waited patiently for about ten seconds before opening her mouth, which was when Faith chose to speak again. "My kid's missing."

Her jaw clicked shut, and Buffy was stunned into silence for almost a minute before finally saying, "You don't have a kid."

It was the truth. Buffy had known Faith for fifteen years and the other woman had never, not once, mentioned anything about having had a baby or being a mother. Granted, there were large portions of those fifteen years where they were out of contact, but Buffy would have known. Faith would have told her, if only to be spiteful.

The expression on Faith's face was telling Buffy something very different, and her movements were a little jerky as she pulled her wallet out of her back pocket and flipped it open. Buffy's eyes widened when she pulled out what was obviously a school portrait and handed it over to her without saying anything. For some reason, when Buffy took it her fingers were shaking slightly.

She looked like she was about sixteen, with long, bushy blond hair and a sallow complexion marred by acne scars, but it was her eyes that got Buffy's attention. Big and brown and glaring at the camera with ferocity that Buffy recognized all too well. She cleared her throat. "I think," she said, looking up into those same brown eyes; the stubborn tilt to her jaw was familiar too, "you should probably explain."

Sighing as though Buffy was putting her out extremely, Faith snatched the picture back, looking down at it before she slid it carefully back into its place in her wallet. Its place in a plastic picture protector, in a long line of other pictures; Buffy leaned forward to get a better look and Faith snapped her wallet shut with a sneer.

"She's Kenny's," she muttered, causing Buffy's eyebrows to go up in surprise. Faith rarely talked about her ex-boyfriend, and Buffy knew almost nothing about him and what she knew only through brief mentions. The timeline was right, though, if the girl in the picture was sixteen. "His sister raised her. She thinks he's her uncle." Her tone was clipped: she was presenting memorized facts.

"Oh," Buffy said, bothered by her tone, "So she doesn't know who you are?"

"I couldn't be the Slayer and her mom," Faith explained, still in that same robotic way, "and Kenny would have been a terrible dad. Bree's older, she's married, and she can't have her own kids. I did the right thing."

The uncomfortable part was Buffy thought Faith was right. After she had met Robin Wood, Buffy had realized that being a mother and a Slayer was impossible. It wasn't a life a child should be raised around, and there was no question in Buffy's mind that the life that little girl had lead was incomparably better than the life she could have. It still made her sad, and something Faith had mentioned earlier was niggling at the back of her brain.

"You said she was missing?" she asked, standing up and going over to the filing cabinet in the corner. It took her a few seconds of rummaging, but she found the Beacon Hills file and brought it over, plopping it onto her desk. Her hand slapped down on top of it when Faith reached for it.

She looked like she wanted to hit Buffy for it, just a little, which Buffy ignored as she sat back down. "They're saying that she ran away."

There it was, her a-ha moment. Buffy kept her expression bemused while her mind started making connections. "So? Teenagers run away all of the time. I did. You did." Of course, there was more to it, and Buffy opened the file knowing exactly what she was looking for. She'd been bitten third, so she was further back in the pile, but—Buffy tugged the vitals sheet loose and slid it over to Faith. Erica Reyes, sixteen, bitten Beta werewolf. "She looks a little different, but that's her, right?"

Faith's jaw tensed. "You're getting worse and worse at hiding those brains of yours the older we get, B."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. Yeah, that's her."

"Did you know she was bitten?" Buffy asked carefully. Faith nodded, looking away and crossing her arms defensively. She was leaning so far back in the chair Buffy worried it would tip. "Let me guess: Alan told you?" Faith nodded again, and Buffy rolled her eyes. That veterinarian was a menace. "So you want to go to Beacon Hills to find her." Sighing, Buffy closed the file again. She almost wanted to say no. There was a tiny part of her that would never completely trust Faith, and the mess in Beacon Hills was getting messier every day. Having someone in the thick of it that Buffy wasn't sure she could rely on didn't seem like the best idea, but… It was Faith's kid, and Buffy wasn't a heartless bitch.

"It's around a seven hour drive from here," she finally said, "so you should probably start packing."

Faith stood up slowly, tucking her wallet back into her pocket, and nodded again. "Thanks a lot, B," she said, and her voice was a little rough. Buffy chose to ignore it.

"Don't thank me just yet. I'm sending Connor and Dawn with you."

Wincing, Faith gave Buffy the dirtiest non-lethal look she ever had. "You're making me take the _newlyweds_?"

"God yes, are you kidding me? They've been back from the honeymoon two weeks and I'm already sick of them."

Faith flipped her off as she shut the office door, but Buffy's laughter still managed to follow her down the hall.


	2. Chapter One

**Title:** Like Mother, Like Daughter

**Summary:** She looked like she was about sixteen, with long, bushy blond hair and a sallow complexion marred by acne scars, but it was her eyes that got Buffy's attention. Big and brown and glaring at the camera with ferocity that Buffy recognized all too well. Or, towards the end of season two, Faith volunteers to investigate the supernatural happenings in Beacon Hills for entirely selfish reasons.

**Main Characters:** Faith Lehane, Erica Reyes, Dawn Summers, Connor, Teen Wolf-ensemble, possibly more to be added later.

**Pairings:** Berica (main), background Scallison, Jydia, Connor/Dawn, Sterek and possibly Chris Argent/Faith.

**Disclaimer:** Just a fangirl.

Chapter One

There had been a period of time when Faith couldn't think about her. When she had been called, it was a conscious decision she made; up until that point, Faith had been in contact with Bree. Kenny's sister was happy to provide her with updates and pictures.

Erica had been such a cute fucking baby.

Faith's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, her eyes flickering to the rearview mirror where she could see Dawn and Connor passed out against each other in the back seat of the car before returning to the road ahead. The three of them had made it out of Los Angeles around five and it was now close to midnight; the last sign she'd seen read **Beacon Hills Next Exit**. Flipping her turn signal, she merged onto the off-ramp.

The welcome mat hadn't changed. Last she'd seen it, Faith had been wiping the dust of the town from her boots. She wondered if Erica had made it that far and had to pull over on the side of the road.

Sounds of her puking woke Dawn up. She blinked blearily and raised her head from Connor's shoulder, glancing around. They were, she realized, parked. Faith was retching into the bushes. Her first thought was _oh, gross_; it took her a second to actually process what was happening. Once she had, Dawn fumbled with her buckle and then the handle, pushing the door open. Connor slept on, oblivious.

"Faith?" Dawn should probably wake him up to handle the situation. Her husband was close to the Slayer, although he had been just as blown away as everyone else by the news that Faith had a daughter. Even Angel hadn't known, much to her sister's not-so-subtle relief. "Should I—"

"'m five-by-five," Faith muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she straightened. Dawn got out of the car completely, shutting the door quietly behind her and leaning against it with her arms crossed. A few feet behind Faith the trees started, and for a moment Dawn wondered what was in them that required a Slayer and the Destroyer.

"You know Buffy was going send Oz for this one?" she blurted after Faith didn't speak for almost two minutes, "Because, you know, werewolves."

"Yeah, well, instead she sent the brats."

"Right," Dawn's head bobbed in a nod, "She figured more werewolves?" She made a face, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head, "Bad idea." Faith snorted, but didn't make any further comment. Dawn was at a loss as to what to do, so she sighed, dropping her arms. "Want me to drive?"

"Town's ten minutes away," Faith said, rolling her eyes.

"So?"

Faith's scrutiny always made her nervous. Sure, the Slayer was Team Scooby now, but she hadn't always been. Her memories might have been false, but Faith had still done some awful things; when she stared, it was easier to remember. Dawn squirmed and tried not to let herself exhale to loudly when Faith finally shrugged and dropped her gaze.

"Keys're—" She began, interrupted by a sharp howl that suddenly ripped through the quiet of the night, coming from deep in the woods. It sent a shiver down Dawn's back. Faith stopped talking, her jaw snicking shut and her spine straightening. "Keys are in the ignition," she said, going around the front of the car and popping the trunk. The gun she hauled out and slung over her shoulders glinted in the moonlight. "Get to Alan's. I'll meet you there."

Dawn glanced into the back seat at Connor and frowned. "You shouldn't go alone. We're not sure what we're dealing with yet."

"So wake Connor up," Faith said impatiently, already crossing ground, slipping in between the sparse trees at the edge of the woods. "He can catch up." She walked backwards for a moment, saluting Dawn cheekily, and then turned and bolted through the trees, following the sounds of the howls. Watching her go, Dawn sighed, the corners of her mouth tugging downward. She went around to open the driver's side passenger door. Connor, who had been lying heavily against it, tumbled out of the car, jolting awake.

"Wha?" he demanded, rubbing his head as he got to his feet. "Where is Faith and why are we stopped?"

Her finger shot to the woods, probably more dramatically than necessary. "There was howling, and she took off in there."

Connor stared in the direction she had pointed, groaned, and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Crap," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pocket. "Okay, well, I'll go after her. You—"

"—go to Alan's. Faith's already given me the order."

The grin Connor gave her still made Dawn's heartbeat pick up a little, so she kissed him, briefly, on the corner of his mouth. "Don't forget your sword," she told him.

"Yes, dear," Connor said, retrieving the weapon and shutting the trunk firmly. He kissed her again, this time on the forehead. "See you in a bit," he promised.

"Be careful," Dawn ordered as he walked away, watching him go with her hand on the driver's door. "I mean it, Connor."

"You too," he threw back over his shoulder with a cocky grin, and disappeared into the woods.

Dawn looked around and shivered again as another howl filled the night. To Alan's it was, she thought, getting in, and drove towards town.


	3. Chapter Two

"Closed. Closed? You have got to be kidding me!"

Dawn slammed her palms against the steering wheel and the back of her head against the neck rest. Closed. Alan had known they were coming! Or had he not thought Faith wouldn't come running at the news that her daughter was missing?

At least now Dawn knew why the Slater had been so weird lately; Faith had given her baby up so that her life wouldn't be complicated by things that went bump. Finding out first that Erica had become one, and then that she was missing...with their lives, certain conclusions were easier to jump to.

Dawn really hoped that they were wrong this time, but she had to concentrate on the problem she could solve. Getting out of the car, she grabbed Connor's jacket and approached the office door, wrapping it around her elbow.

An alarm started blaring when Dawn broke the glass. Of course it did. Rolling her eyes at her luck, Dawn unlocked the door from the inside and opened it, pointlessly shutting it again behind her as she stepped into the office. It was dark, the alarm was loud, and the first thing Dawn was expecting was something emerging from the shadows. She just wasn't expecting it to be Alan Deaton in a black leather jacket, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves.

It was a little disappointing.

"Miss Summers. Knocking would have worked just as well."

"Sure it would have. You know what else would have? Not being closed."

"It's after midnight," Alan said calmly, staring at her with his stupid stoic face and funky beard thing. Her eyes narrowed.

"You knew we were coming,"

"I did," he agreed, "but knowing that you're coming and extending the clinic's hours have nothing to do with each other."

"Andrew says hi," Dawn shot out, tone a little venomous. She felt triumphant when his carefully blank face cracked a little with a wince.

"Tell Mr. Wells that I say hello as well," he said, voice a little tighter, and her smirk was gleeful. "I take it he didn't volunteer?"

Was the relief in his voice? "Oh, he volunteered. Buffy just sent Connor and I instead. "Congratulations on your nuptials, by the way. I'm sorry that my duties kept me from attending."

Dawn shrugged and hopped over the partition separating them, leaning against it and folding her arms. "The ceremony was crashed by a gang of vamps, but the reception was fun. Were you going somewhere?"

Alan was expressionless. "I have business to attend to."

"Does that business pertain to Erica?"

"At the moment, no. I assume that means Faith is here as well?"

"Well..." It was Dawn's turn to hesitate. "She's around here somewhere."

There were five of them. Four males, one female.

They had Erica and another werewolf, a muscular black kid who looked about seventeen and towered over her, literally surrounded. Erica and the kid were back to back, fangs dropped and claws out, and for a split second, Faith froze. More emotions were flooding through her than she normally let herself feel, relief at the fact that she was alive, pride at her defensive stance, and a cold, hard anger at the growls coming from the other werewolves, Alphas by the bloody gleam in their eyes.

A pack of Alphas. Some warning would have been nice.

The female moved forward suddenly, spurring Faith into action by taking a swipe at Erica. Something fiercer than anything Faith had ever felt before welled up in her when she heard her-her damn daughter-let out a choked cry of pain. Before she consciously realized what she was doing, her gun was aimed and she was firing a bullet into the bitch's side.

Her howl of pain was the best thing Faith had ever heard. Five pairs of furious red eyes and two terrified, pleading yellow ones were focused on her. Right. TIme to make an entrance. She sauntered forward, gun still aimed.

"She's a human," one of the younger males grumbled, and Faith startled to realize that he was identical to the one on his right. She would have to remember that. "Let's rip her to shreds."

"She's a hunter," the bitch spat. "There's wolfsbane in this bullet."

Faith smirked and fired off another shot, this time at the large, brutish Alpha who had been moving closer. It hit his stomach; she hadn't even looked. "Try Slayer," she said, smirk turning dark as the last Alpha, thin and wiry, actually took a step back. "My name's Faith. I'm not as famous as B, but maybe you've heard of me?"

From the way the wiry one was abruptly human-looking and holding his hands up placatingly. "As a matter of fact, I have. We're perfectly within our rights to-" Faith aimed her gun at him and he stopped talking.

"I know for a fact that this isn't your territory," she said calmly. "and while you're not the problem the Council sent me here to deal with, I'd be more than happy to."

"There's no need for-"

"Look, do I have to spell it out for you? Step away from my kid and get your asses out of this territory."

Wiry's face went carefully blank, and Faith realized a second too late her slip up. Crap.

"Of course," he said, voice oily. "We have wounded to attend to, after all."

Apparently even Alpha packs had Alphas, because as soon as he spoke, the others started to back away from Erica and the other kid. Faith kept the gun on them until they'd disappeared into the trees, back towards the road the way she had come. As soon as she couldn't hear them anymore she lowered it, stepping closer.

Erica flinched back with a whine and the guy roared at her. Roared. He stepped in front of Faith's daughter, blocking her from sight, and Faith grit her teeth.

"Look, I just saved your asses. I didn't do it to kill you myself. I can't put the weapon away in case they loop back," she told them, exasperated. The big guy snarled, but Erica put a hand on his shoulder, peeking over it.

"She's not lying, Boyd," she said, and hearing her voice for the first time was a punch in Faith's gut. She concentrated on the new piece of information: big guy's name was Boyd.

"She's a hunter!"

"Slayer!" Faith shot back, "That's not exactly the same thing."

"Then what is it?" he demanded, pushing Erica back behind him when she tried to step forward.

"Well, technically my beat is vamps."

"Vamps?" Erica asked, batting Boyd's hand aside when he tried to shove her back again and stepping out in front of him. She cocked her hip, settling on hand on it and studying Faith intently. "As in vampires?"

"Got it in one, kiddo."

Her phrasing seemed to spark something in Erica's memory, because she shifted in favor of crossing her arms.

"So which one of us is your kid?" she asked, brown eyes calculating and curious. Crap. She was sharp. There was that damn pride again.

"Um," Faith opened her mouth to answer-

-and Connor crashed into the clearing, brandishing his sword and looking around wildly.

"Did I miss it?"


	4. Chapter Three

It wasn't like Briana Reyes was Lady Tremaine or Mother Gothel or whatever. Possibly that was part of the problem. Hating her would have been easier, would have hurt less, maybe, if she had been. The feeling of disconnection might have been easier.

Or the problem might have been that disconnection all along. Erica hadn't ever really been sure. Her first memory was being in the hospital after her first seizure. Uncle Kellan had been there when she woke up; he parents had not. Distance and indifference was supposedly better than the torture and humiliation she went through at school, but Erica still grew up wishing that they were other people—that her _mom_ was another person. So when the woman—Faith, Erica thought to herself, sneaking a peek over her shoulder where she and the man she'd introduced as Connor were bickering—had said "_my _kid" like that, like she would be willing and eager to rip every werewolf there apart with her hands, everything in Erica had snapped to attention.

If Derek had taught her anything, it was to pay attention to her instinct. She just wanted confirmation, and she wasn't getting it.

"—_I_ know which way it is?"

"You've been here before!"

"So I went running through the woods? No. I took the damn road."

"What about patrol?"

"There is a _graveyard_, Connor."

Erica winced, thinking of Isaac, trying to shove back the twinge of guilt and the pang of betrayal that seemed to be intertwined with his memory, and Boyd squeezed her hand, settling her.

"Maybe," he started, causing Faith and Connor to fall quiet, "if you told the people who _do _know the area where we're going then _they_ could figure it out."

Ducking her head and smirking, Erica squeezed his hand back.

"We're trying to find the vet's clinic," Faith said after another minute of silence. Silent, pointless walking. Next to her, Boyd tensed; Erica understood, her own stomach suddenly leaden.

"The vet's?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice, stopping without turning around, tugging Boyd to a halt as well. Behind her she could hear Faith stop too, Connor a second later. "Why?"

"Alan Deaton is a friend of mine."

"Did he send you?"

"What?"

Letting go of Boyd's hand, Erica turned around and crossed her arms, hips cocked and chin up. A few feet away from her, Faith's pose was nearly identical. Startled, Erica dropped her hands.

"Did he send you after us?" she demanded again, pushing aside her uncertainty.

"He told me you were missing," Faith allowed with a nod.

"So he did!"

"No." Eyes narrowing, Faith took a step forward. "I'm here because there's a giant lizard running around killing people. I came after _you_ on my own."

Jackson. They were there because of Jackson. She wasn't sure it that was reassuring or not, so she shoved it to the back of her mind to think about later. "_Me_," she said instead, "because I'm your kid."

Faith rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I guess."

"You guess," Boyd repeated, moving to stand behind Erica, solid and reassuring.

"Look, do we have to do this now?"

"I think we do."

"Fine," Faith snapped, "five-by-five. Yeah, I'm here because I heard _my kid_ needed her ass saved." Her eyes met Erica's, one eyebrow raised challengingly. Erica smirked back, hands settling on her hips.

"Knew it."

"I don't understand why we didn't just kill her."

"She said she was a Slayer," Ethan explained flatly, barely glancing up from the city map spread out over the table before him to look at his brother. Aiden scowled.

"So what? That's just another word for hunter."

"No, you idiot, it isn't," sneered Kali from where she was propped up, recuperating. "Slayers have superhuman strength because they're part _demon_. Do you know _nothing_?"

Scowl morphing into a snarl, Aiden straightened, taking a step towards her. Ethan's hand stopped him.

"She would have kicked our asses," he told Aiden, watching his twin's jaw tense.

"Oh, she would have done more than that," Deucalion said, drawing every eye in the room to him and his nonchalant sprawl on the couch. "If—_if_," he stressed, "we had managed to incapacitate her, all it would do is bring the Council down on our heads."

"The Council?" Aiden demanded, shoving Ethan's hand aside and balling his fists when Deucalion waved his question off and steepled his fingers under his chin. "I'm getting really tired of finding out how much I don't know," he muttered threateningly.

"What you need to know," Deucalion told him quietly, "is that the Dark Slayer is in town, and whatever business she's on, I know exactly why she's here. That, my friends," he grinned sharply, "is what's called a game changer."


	5. Chapter Four

They met at the gas station, the closest place to neutral territory that there was in Beacon Hills at the moment. The men stood facing each other, each flanked by a teenager, both of their faces carefully neutral.

"So you don't have them, and you don't know where they are," Derek said, folding his arms, his tone carrying his disbelief clearly. Chris Argent shook his head, almost apologetically.

"I lowered the voltage so that they could escape," he explained, "they're not there anymore. i thought they would have gone back to you."

Somehow, Derek's back managed to stiffen even more, face shutting down completely. "Well, they didn't," he said, ignoring the uneasy shifting of Isaac behind him. "And if you don't have them, we're done here."

Although he said it, neither of the werewolves turned to go, not daring to turn their backs on people who were still their enemies regardless of the way the events of the last several hours had played out. Realizing this, Chris nodded once and turned toward his SUV. "Let's go, Allison," he said quietly, and with one last unreadable look at Derek and Isaac, the girl nodded and followed her father. Isaac waited until after they had driven away to turn to Derek.

"They didn't come back," he said dully, unnecessarily. Derek scowled at him.

"I know that," he snapped, and then his shoulders slumped slightly and he rubbed his fingers over his forehead for a moment. "We need to find them."

"Because of the Alpha pack?"

The look Derek gave him was sharp, and so was his nod. Isaac shifted, shoving his hands in his pockets, unsure what to say about that. He didn't need to speak it all, it turned out, because the wind shifted and he caught the faint, overly sanitized scent of Scott's boss. The man never smelled like anything but antispetic, and it set Isaac on edge, but Derek didn't seem bothered by him, and for the moment, Derek was still who Isaac was taking his cues from.

"I can help you with that," Deaton said, appearing from around the corner of the gas station.

"We don't need your help," Derek said, flat and cold, and okay. So he was more bothered than he let on. Also, apparently what had just happened with Scott had done nothing to change his way of thinking. Isaac stifled a sigh.

"You also don't need to go looking for your wayward betas," Deaton counted calmly. "They're safe with Erica's mother."

"She's at home?" Isaac interrupted in disbelief. Somehow, he couldn't see Erica returning to her stifling house and indifferent parents. There was no sign that the man was lying, however. The bland smile that he gave him raised Isaac's hackles, but he was being truthful.

"I said she's with her mother, Mr. Lahey," he said simply, and then nodded at Derek. "I'm sure they'll seek you out when she's ready."

Derek looked like he wanted to lunge at the older man, and Isaac had a feeling that it was only the hand he placed on his shoulder that held him back. With another bland smile, Deaton disappeared back the way he had come, leaving them alone again. The growl that rumbled through Derek's chest had Isaac snatching his hand back instinctively. It had been too long since he had sleep for him to keep keeping up with this bullshit.

"So can we go home now?"

"No. We're going to find Erica and Boyd."

"But Deaton said-"

"I don't trust Deaton," Derek snapped. "And if you do, then-" he stopped, cut himself off, and started striding away without another word. Isaac rolled his eyes, debating for all of a second on actually going home and getting to bed, but... Erica was his friend. His first friend, and he knew she was out there somewhere, could feel their bond, faint but tugging. He scampered after Derek, wondering if it was late enough in the morning for them to pass an open coffee shop.

It was the nicest hotel Erica had been in since her Uncle Kellan took her to Disneyland. She glanced around appreciatively as she and Boyd followed the trio of adults, sticking as close to Faith as possible. The brunette kept glancing back, as though checking to make sure that Erica was still there. Parental concern, she thought, lips twisting in a pleased smile. Oh, she was pissed at the woman, and Faith would know it soon enough, but still-she was her mother, and when she had found out that Erica was in danger, she'd tracked her down to keep her safe. It was more than Briana Reyes would have done. Erica doubted that she'd even filed a missing persons report yet, and Erica had run away days ago.

"Keep up, kid," Faith grumbled, her eyes going over Erica's head to check the door as their group moved toward the elevator. Erica could have told her that they weren't being followed, but she liked the worry, so she picked up her pace instead, tugging Boyd along with her. The five of them crammed into the elevator, and for just a second Erica couldn't breathe.

It was such an enclosed space that her senses were going a little haywire, and she understood suddenly why Derek had always been so reluctant to be anywhere without windows. Faith smelled like gunpower-wolfsbane free-and patchouli, but the other two...

Connor, the man, smelled faintly of blood, of decay and dirt, overlayed by something unidentifiable that made her nose itch. The woman's scent carried something similar, but underneath it, there was nothing. Nothing at all; it was unnatural. It made Erica nervous, and she wedged herself between Faith and Boyd without realizing it. Boyd squeezed her hand, sending a wave of affection through her, and she squeezed back, grateful when the elevator dinged and the doors opened again.

They split into groups after that, Connor and Dawn heading to their own room while Faith led Erica and Boyd to her suite.

"I didn't realize there would be three of us," she said in something close to an apologetic tone as she opened the door, "but I think we've got space."

Space was an understatement, and the first thing Erica did was flop down on the surprisingly cushy couch with a groan. Boyd hovered in the middle of the room, glancing around, while Faith shrugged out of her jacket and tugged her boots off. When she was done she looked at them, eyes calculating.

"Who's hungry?" she asked, reaching for the phone, "This whole trip's on the Council's dime, so we can order as much from room service as we want."

Boyd and Erica exchanged a glance, and Erica nodded. "We could eat," she said, "Does this place have burgers?"

"Kiddo, this place has whatever you want," Faith told her, turning away slightly when the front desk picked up. She ordered so much food that even Boyd looked a little alarmed, grinning unapologetically at them when she hung up. "I remember how much Oz could pack away," she explained with a shrug, "and he was just one werewolf. Plus, slaying makes me hungry and ho-never mind."

The mood shifted into something awkward. Erica watched Faith scratch the back of her neck, obviously trying to think of something to say, and wished she wasn't at a loss as well.

It was Boyd who broke the silence.

"Do you think I could use your shower?" he asked, the first time he'd addressed Faith directly since the big reveal. He'd been silent the entire walk to Deaton's and somehow even quieter on the car ride to the hotel, so Erica could understand the surprise that flickered through Faith's eyes.

"Yeah, of course, go ahead," she said, waving her hand towards the other rooms. "If you can find it, you can use it."

Boyd nodded and went the the direction she'd gestured, leaving Erica alone with her mother for the first time in, well. Ever.

There was a ridiculously intense moment where they stared at each other, and then Faith let out a hugh breath, rolling her eyes and crossing the room to plop down next to Erica. The shower turned on, and it was if that was her cue.

"I'm not going to apologize or any bullshit like that," she said flatly. "I was a kid, and I was a potential Slayer."

"Meaning you didn't want me," Erica said slowly, the realization stinging a little. If that was true, why had she come back?

"No," Faith denied sharply, "I wanted you. I wanted you so bad that I did what was best for you."

"You left me with a family that acts like I don't exist!"

"They weren't like that when I left you with them! Bree was all right, she wanted a kid. I didn't know she would turn into an ice bitch over a few measley health problems."

Measley health problems? Erica's temper flared and her eyes narrowed, turning gold. "I took the bite because of those measley health problems," she told her. "My life was hell because of those measley health problems."

"Your life would have been actual hell if I had kept you. You think this is bad? This situation is a piece of cake. I deal with shit just like it on a weekly basis. Does it suck? Yes. Is it difficult? Of course. But during the darkest periods in my life I knew you were safe, and that made it worth it."

"You could have protected me! If this is what your life is always like, you could have-"

"No, I couldn't have." Faith's voice was quiet, firm, an edge of steel in it that made Erica shrink back instinctively. "Slayers aren't mothers. You would have been used against me, and I would have been killed protecting you. If you hate me, fine. You're safe now, you can walk out of this room, out of this hotel, and we can both pretend it never happened. But I'm not going to feel guilty about guarenteeing your survival, however sucky it was, okay?"

Erica glared at her. "You have no idea what it was like," she snapped, clinging to her fury, blinking away the sudden stinging of tears, standing up just to get away from her. "I was tortured every day. I had no friends, nobody wanted to even talk to the epileptic freak. Not even my parents."

Faith's mouth set in a firm line, and she jerked her wallet out of her jeans, tossing it at Erica. It was open when she caught it, one of those stupid picture fold-outs hanging down. She raised her hand to chuck it back and stopped.

Every school picture she'd ever taken was there, from kindergarten to sophomore year. So were all the dumb Santa and Easter Bunny pictures her mom kept in a dusty photo album.

"I wanted you," Faith repeated, gaze steady on her. "I'm sorry that your life wasn't great, okay, but I'm not sorry that I kept you safe."

Erica didn't know what to say. She glanced back and forth between the pictures and the woman on the couch. A stranger, for all intents and purposes.

Her mother, which somehow seemed more important. A mother who actually gave a crap.

"You don't get to leave me again," she said, chin going up. "And I'm not calling you Mom."

For a second, Faith didn't seem to process what she'd said, but then she grinned, slow and relieved.

"Fair enough."


	6. Chapter Five

The phone rang twice before Buffy picked it up, and Dawn smiled to herself when her sister answered just a little frantically.

"Dawnie, there you are. I told you to call me when you got to Beacon Hills. What's going on, is everything alright?"

"I have officially seen the weirdest thing that I will ever see," Dawn replied cheerfully, and Buffy paused for almost a minute before answering.

"Is this about the lizard monster thing or the other thing?"

"The other thing." She glanced around, but the drugstore was deserted in the mid-morning lull. "If I didn't know better, I'd say Faith is possessed."

"...but you know better, right?" Buffy's tone was slightly worried, and Dawn rolled her eyes.

"Of course. I checked. She's just... It's so weird, Buffy, but she's in total Mom-mode."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not. She's all, 'Erica wear my jacket, yours is ripped', 'Erica, I know you can eat more breakfast, you're a werewolf'." Dawn paused, remembering the look on Erica's face that morning when Faith had said that, and chuckled as she threw a bottle of shampoo into her basket. The hotel stuff was never enough for her hair. Thinking on it, she threw in another bottle for Erica, and two bottles of conditioner. The teenager hadn't exactly run away prepared. A stick of deodorant and some bodywash, both unscented to be on the safe side, went into her basket too.

"...You're sure she's not possessed?" Buffy sounded doubtful, and Dawn shook her head before remembering that her sister couldn't see her.

"She's completely Faith. I think she's just making up for lost time."

"Overcompensating," Buffy mused, and Dawn snorted.

"I'm sure she'll run right out an buy a sports car with jacked up wheels next."

"Funny."

"Actually, apparently Erica wants to get her license? So that might be a thing that happens." Erica's face had lit up when Faith offered to teach her, forcibly casual, earlier when they'd all been in her suite. They were supposed to be strategizing, but that hadn't happened, not with Faith and Erica's tentative bickering. It was almost cute to watch, although the rage fit Erica had thrown when Faith tried to give the threatening parent talk to her hunky boyfriend was not.

Speaking of hunky boyfriends...well, husbands...Dawn craned her neck to make sure that Connor was still outside as she slipped a pregnancy test into her basket. He was, and he was talking to someone. Two someones. A man and a teenaged boy, from the look of it. Dawn frowned.

"-licenses are overrated," Buffy was saying when Dawn tuned back in, and she sighed.

"Says the woman who still has Xander drive her places."

"He's my chauffer."

"Nice. Have you called him that to his face?" One of the kids was gesturing wildly, and Connor was getting defensive, Dawn could see it in the tensing of his posture.

"Not lately."

"Not if you want rides, you mean." Dawn made her way to the register quickly, setting her basket on the counter and pulling out her wallet.

"Potato, tomato."

"Buffy..."

"What?" Her sister was instantly on alert. "What is it, what's going on, are you under attack? Where's Connor? He's supposed to be protecting you, that's the whole reason I let you two get married."

"He's-" Dawn paused. "Let us?"

"I could have stopped it if I wanted to!"

"Right." Dawn rolled her eyes again, paying for her things and taking the bags. "Of course you could have. Just so we're clear, yeah right." She hurried towards the exit, watching the three men in the parking lot and picking up her pace. "Look, I have to go."

"Dawnie, seriously, is everything-"

"I'll call you later," Dawn promised, ending the call and shoving her phone in her pocket as she rushed out of the building towards her husband. That was definite growling she was hearing. "Hey," she said, a little breathlessly, reaching his side and looping her arm through his. "What's going on?"

"Get in the car, Dawnie," Connor said, not looking away from the intense staredown he was having with-whoa, hello there. Dawn blinked.

"Um, no. Sorry, babe, but you know that's not going to happen." She tugged Connor back a step, eyeing tall, dark and broody and his slimmer, curly-haired companion.

"Where. Are. They?" the one with the eyebrows demanded.

"Where are who?" Dawn countered, pulling Connor back another step. "There are so many theys, really. Which theys are you talking about?"

"Boyd and Erica," the man bit out, and Dawn blinked. Oh. Oh.

"Are you Derek?"

For a second, the man-werewolf-looked startled. Then his eyebrows knit together and he scowled.

"How do you know my name?"

"It's kind of my job," Dawn said, and whoa, okay, wrong thing to say. He was growling again. Dawn swallowed hard.

"You're hunters."

"Because we know your name? How paranoid are you?"

"Dawn," Connor sighed, his aggravation obvious in the push of air he let out. "Don't antagonize him."

"Yeah, now that you mention it, that seems like a bad idea," Dawn agreed. The look he gave her told her in no uncertain terms that it was an inappropriate time for sarcasm. "We're not hunters," she told the werewolf, who was still growling quietly, hands clenched into fists. "I swear, okay, I mean my sister's the Slayer but I'm just me. Dawn Summers. No slaying-or hunting-done by this girl."

"Dawn," Connor groaned, shaking his head slightly, and Curly took a step closer, putting his hand on the werewolf and shaking his head.

"Derek, come on. They're not going to tell us anything with you doing that."

Derek jerked his arm out of the kid's grip and glaring at him. "They're hunters, Isaac. Why else would they be keeping my pack from me?"

"Maybe your pack isn't ready to see you, buddy, you ever think of that?" Connor snapped, and now who was poking the werewolf? Men.

"Tell me where they are, or I'll-"

"Derek!"

Oh great. More people. Dawn stared at the clunky jeep as it did the closest thing to skidding to a halt that jeeps could and another kid jumped out of it. "What are you doing?" he demanded as the driver parked and fumbled with his seatbelt.

"Stay out of this, Scott."

"Isaac said you're about to get into a fight in the middle of the CVS parking lot, dude. What are you doing?"

"They have Boyd and Erica!" Derek yelled, unclenching a fist long enough to point an accusing finger at Dawn and Conner. Dawn huffed indignantly.

"It's not like we're holding them captive. Faith took them shopping."

"Okay," The newcomer, Scott, blinked, "who is Faith?"

"Faith is-"

"Erica's mom," Curly-Isaac, Dawn thought firmly, Isaac-breathed, eyes going wide. "She is, isn't she? That's what Deaton meant."

"You know Alan?" Connor asked, unimpressed but begrudgingly curious.

"You know my boss?" Scott demanded, staring at Connor and sniffing the air unsubtly. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"Okay," a sixth voice panted, sounding a little frustrated as the driver joined them, "so what's going on?"  
Almost in unison, the boys and Derek turned to look at him. He shrank back slightly, shrugging. "What? I don't exactly have super hearing. Human, here," he muttered.

"Look," said Connor, using their distraction to try and defuse the situation, "Can we not do this in broad daylight where anyone could see?"

"Fine," Scott agreed, at the same time that Derek said, "No."

"What?" Scott turned to Derek, incredulous. "Dude, come on, we can't do this here."

"Uh, do what here, exactly?" The driver asked, earning himself more glares. His palms and eyebrows went up.

"We'll take him," Dawn said impulsively, gesturing to the driver, and both Derek and Scott turned to her and snarled. She meeped. Well, that was...unexpected. "I meant to Erica and Boyd!"

"No," Derek repeated firmly, moving to stand in front of the kid. "Absolutely not. You'll bring Boyd and Erica to us."

"No, we won't," Connor argued, taking his own protective stance in front of Dawn. She made a face that the kid mirrored. "I'm pretty sure we already said that they don't want to see you."

"I'm their Alpha," Derek said, like that meant something.

"Fat lot of good that's done you," Connor snapped back, and Dawn forced down the thrill it gave her to hear him use that tone. "Where were you when Faith had to rescue them last night?"

"Looking for them!" Derek almost shouted. Seriously, so dramatic.

"Well," Dawn said calmly, "they're safe now, so either you let us take that one," she gestured to the kid, who offered "Stiles" as his name-whatever, her sister's name was Buffy-"and he can see for himself and report back or whatever, or you guys wait for them to come to you."

"I don't hate that plan," Stiles offered, and when Derek and Scott looked at him in disbelief he gestured wildly to Connor and Dawn. "Well isn't it better if one of us goes than nobody?"

"Stiles," Scott hissed, "we don't need you getting kidnapped again." Dawn's own eyebrows went up and she scanned the boy's face, noticing the bruise on it for the first time.

"It's not kidnapping if I'm going willingly," Stiles told Scott patiently, "and besides, they're not going to hurt me. Are you?"

"No, we're not," she said slowly.

"Was she lying?"

"No..." Scott admitted grudgingly. "But, Stiles..."

"I'm going, Scott," Stiles said firmly. "I was the last person to see them, anyway, so just... say it's for my own peace of mind. If you don't hear from me in an hour, use those keen werewolf senses of yours to track me down."

"Stiles..."

"Scott." He glanced at Dawn, then to Scott, gaze flickering briefly to Derek. "Look. I'll be fine. I promise. Let me do this, okay?"

"One hour," Scott said, clearly hating to. "I want a phone call, too, not a text."

"You got it, buddy." Stiles clapped him on the shoulder, dug his keys out of his pockets and handed them to his friend. "Talk to you soon."

He moved towards Connor and Dawn, stopping when Derek's hand smacked into his chest. There was a moment where they glared at each other, and then, to apparently even Stiles's shock given the way his mouth fell open, Derek said, "Be careful."

"Right." Stiles cleared his throat, nodded. "Right, I will." Derek's hand dropped, and he took a deep breath before looking into Dawn's eyes. "Okay, so. Kidnap me."

Dawn smacked herself in the forehead.


	7. Chapter Six

**Author's Note/Disclaimer**: I just wanted to say thank you to everybody who has commented on, favorited or followed this. I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint.

Also: I used a quote from Buffy in this. Obviously, it's not mine.

The woods were almost eerily silent. It had Allison on edge as she walked through them, eyes forward and jaws set. Or maybe it was her destination that had her on edge, because when she reached the clearing, she stumbled to a stop and pressed her palm to a nearby tree, biting her lip and glancing at the ground. Almost without her permission, her eyes found the blood splattered across the ground, dried a dark, nearly black red over the fallen leaves.

Steeling herself, Allison straightened and strode forward, crouching down at brushed gloved fingertips over the evidence of her own cruelty.

Her father said it wasn't her fault. She had been manipulated, and the fact that she felt remorse for it was enough of an absolution in his eyes, but it wasn't in hers. They argued that morning, when she told him that she wanted to go looking for Erica and Boyd. He kept saying that they weren't her responsibility, but they were.

It was her fault that they had left Derek in the first place.

The clearing was the first place she had thought of to start, although she wasn't sure what she expected to find there. She had dragged the werewolves back to her home without a second thought, but there had to be some way to figure out where they'd gone. Some way to track them, even if Allison wasn't sure what she'd do once she had. She doubted either of them would really want to see her, let alone talk to her, hear her out.

Standing again, Allison scanned the ground for any sort of clue, glancing up almost without thought, and her shoulders tensed. Several yards away, there were claw marks in the trunk of an old redwood, crusted black as though a palm had smeared across it. It was too far away for it to have been caused by Erica or Boyd...she hoped, anyway. Pace quick, she made her way to the tree and leaned in close. That was definitely wolfsbane poisoned blood. Her nose wrinkled and she moved back slightly, looking around for anything similar.

A little further away, there was a similar mark on another tree. Allison moved nearer, and-yes, there was definitely a trail. A haphazard, unevenly spaced trail, but Allison had no doubts that it had been left behind by a wounded werewolf.

Which...made no sense. Once her dad had turned the electricity low enough for them to escape, they should have started healing. Were there more injured werewolves in the woods? Thinking about the omega she had found near the Hale house a couple of months before, Allison wondered if she had returned, wounded again, or if there was another one roaming around.

She, stupidly, didn't have any weapons on her. Her taser, yes, but nothing more than that. If there were other werewolves around, unfamiliar werewolves, Allison was in no position to confront them.

Allison turned back the way she had come, resolving to return later in the day with something more offensive to protect herself with, and stopped.

That had been a twig snapping.

Her head jerked in the direction of the noise, eyes widening and then narrowing. Her hand slipped into her pocket and she pulled out the taser. "Hello?"

Another snap, behind her, and she whirled around. "Hello?" she called again, voice much more forceful.

"Allison?"

She nearly dropped the taser in relief as the omega stepped into her line of sight, body relaxing. "Cora." Grinning, she shook her head. "You scared the crap out of me."

"If we know why she's here, then why aren't we doing anything? Planning?"

"I am planning, Kali," Deucalion said patiently, chin resting on steepled fingers, lips twisted in amusement at the frustration he felt from the other Alpha. Kali exchanged an unamused glance with Ennis, crossing the room to stand next to him, her arms crossed. It was a defiant stance, although wasted on Deucalion.

"Anything you want to share the the rest of us?" she all but snarled, and Deucalion chuckled.

"So impatient. That's going to end badly for you, you know."

"So I've heard. Get to the point, Duke." Kali rolled her eyes, and Ennis settled a hand on her shoulder for a moment, squeezing briefly before dropping it again.

"We need to get Faith on our side," Deucalion said simply, "get her on our side, and she'll do our work for us. Unfortunately, subtle manipulation won't work on her. We need something more... blatant."

"So we kidnap the girl. Her daughter," sneered Kali.

"Ah yes, that would be the simplest route," Deucalion agreed, "but Faith's just gotten her back. I doubt her guard will be lowered enough for that to work."

"So what?" Aiden demanded, speaking up with a scowl, "we wait? Until her guard is lowered and we can grab her?"

"That lacks finesse. No, my plan is much less obvious than that."

"So what is it?" Ethan sighed, shaking his head at his twin.

"Well," And Deucalion's smirk twisted further into a smug grin, "she'll be watching the _girl._"

Kali exchanged a pleased look with Ennis, smiling dangerously, and her eyes bled red.

"So I tell him, 'As long as you don't go scratching at me or humping my leg, I'm five-by-five, you know'," Faith chuckled and shrugged as she and Erica walked across the lobby of the hotel, Boyd trailing after them, carrying Erica's bags.

He'd offered, and clearly earned Mom Points from the appreciative look Faith had shot him. Which was..good. Boyd was pretty sure it was good, anyway, although Erica had told him in no uncertain terms earlier that she did not need Faith's approval when it came to who she dated.

Boyd kind of wanted it anyway.

Erica's laughter joined Faith's, and that right there, that was why. It was her laughter that had Boyd quickening his pace to walk by her side, smiling down at Erica when she beamed up at him, brilliantly happy.

He'd never heard her laugh like that before, without any trace of bitterness or mockery. Hearing her laugh like that made him happy, too. Boyd shifted the bags in one hand to the other so that he could take Erica's, and her smile got wider, eyes brightening as she laced their fingers together before the flickered back to Faith.

"He was the first werewolf you met?"

"He was," Faith agreed, still chuckling, and Boyd noticed that her steps veered towards the staircase instead of the elevator. "Probably one of the coolest dudes I know. Very zen."

"I want to meet him," Erica declared, and Faith grinned at her widely, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah? I think we could arrange that."

For a second, Boyd's happiness dimmed. Faith lived in Los Angeles, he knew; she'd told him. Erica hadn't said anything about their twice-failed attempt to leave Beacon Hills, not yet, and Boyd was waiting for it, just like he was waiting for her to tell him she wanted to go with her mother. And he couldn't blame her, not really, if she did want to go. But she would be going to live with her mother, to start over with new people in a new life. He didn't know if she would still want him tagging along.

Sensing his mood, Erica squeezed his hand and looked at him again, eyebrow arching in question. Boyd shook his head; they would talk later. For a second it looked like she was going to ask anyway, but just as they reached the top of the stairs, the door to Dawn and Connor's room flew open, and a familiar boy rushed out.

They both halted in their steps, exchanging a startled look as Stiles stumbled to a halt in front of them. He held up his phone, snapping a picture.

Boyd blinked.

"He hasn't called," Derek said, voice sharp and impatient. He paced the floor with heavy steps, throwing a disgruntled glare at Scott every other minute.

"Chill, dude, it's only been like forty-five minutes. Stiles will-" As if on cue the phone chirped, and Scott fumbled to pull it out of his pocket. "Send a picture," he muttered, and then showed the phone to Derek (and Isaac, peering over Derek's shoulder). Erica and Boyd were standing side-by-side, holding hands, half a dozen shopping bags in Boyd's other hand. They were looking at each other, clearly confused but just as obviously unharmed.

Derek stared at it for a moment, tension leaking from his frame, and then his scowl returned and he snatched the phone out of his hand, fumbling with it before holding it up to his ear.

"Put Boyd or Erica on the phone," he demanded, presumably once Stiles had answered. His scowl deepened when Stiles refused loud enough that Scott could hear it. He ducked his head to hide his grin, catching Isaac's eye as the other beta rolled them. "Stiles, put them on the phone." Another refusal, and Derek's jaw tensed. "Stiles-" He jerked the phone away from his ear and glared down at it, brow furrowing. "He hung up on me," he muttered accusingly, and Scott couldn't stop his snicker.

At least, he thought, shaking his head and catching his phone when Derek chucked it at him, they were safe. He'd undoubtedly get answers later.

He could wait.


End file.
